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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797407">Hope, The Greatest Evil of All</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperturtledove/pseuds/Paperturtledove'>Paperturtledove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brothers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Smoking, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, dream is mentioned as are a bunch of other characters not relevant enough here to tag, the major character death is tommy if that wasn't obvious, today's stream left me with thoughts and they are all sad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:08:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperturtledove/pseuds/Paperturtledove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy dies. There's unexpected respite and comfort in death, but good things do not last long for TommyInnit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jschlatt &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Jschlatt, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hope, The Greatest Evil of All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let's be real, you're all here to suffer with me. Have fun.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pain. Dark. Stillness. Thoughts tried to cross his mind but they slipped through a pit as black and empty as the world around him. Coherency was not an option. He could not move. Could not control himself. Could not comprehend what had happened.</p><p> </p><p><em> I was… he grabbed my head and then - </em>He fumbled for the memory but it slipped through his hands like water. </p><p> </p><p>He was vaguely aware that he touched no solid surfaces. It felt as if he were floating, though he had no way of knowing if that was merely a trick of the mind. Less than peaceful, it was simply nothing. No sight, no sound, no touch. No danger, but no safety. Not exposed, but not defended. </p><p> </p><p>The lack of anything was broken through by the slight twitch of his fingers. He could feel them now, grasping at empty space in instinctive panic. Slowly, the return of feeling began to crawl up his arm with a tingle, reaching his shoulder, his neck, and finally, his head.</p><p> </p><p><em> I’m dead, </em> was his first thought. <em> I’m dead, I have to be. That was my third - Fuck. Fuck! </em>Realization doused him like a bucket of ice cold water. The rest of his body was still having its functions come back online, control having returned to his other arm and torso. He flickered his eyes open, only to be met with more darkness. Sound returned in the form of a deep, shuddering breath. His lungs swallowed air as if he were drowning.</p><p> </p><p><em> It was Dream. He grabbed my head and - </em> The faint memory of being thrown against a wall, head splitting, falling to the floor like a ragdoll, simmered in the back of his mind. <em> He called me annoying. Said I was just as bad as him. Then he killed me. He killed me. Dream killed me. </em></p><p> </p><p>He lay there, trying to process this information. It felt inevitable, in a way. Dream had stabbed him in the Final Control Room, shot him in their duel, and now he took his final life. <em> Tubbo. I’ll never see Tubbo again. </em> Tubbo was on his last life though, so it might not be long before - No, he stopped that thought dead in its tracks. <em> I’m horrible for even thinking that.  </em></p><p> </p><p>His head was spinning and spinning and spinning, thinking about prison and his hotel and Tubbo and Sam and his dirt shack and that dumb cat and-</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy?” A name. His name. He’d almost forgotten. The voice that said it was raspy and familiar. He jolted up, now fully in control of his body. The space around him was still nothing, but there was somehow a gravity to the place, a sense of uprightness as he straightened himself into what could be called standing with no ground to stand on. There in the darkness was Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>He froze and stared. His brother wore his coat from the ravine, all familiar aside from the bloody hole sat on his chest. Wilbur looked shocked, but in a resigned and tired kind of way. Like he expected this but was still surprised that it happened. “How?” he asked, sounding equally as tired.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy gulped, the full implications finally starting to settle in. He began to shake, grabbing his arm tightly. Before he could stop it, a sob wracked him. He ran over to Wilbur and threw his arms around him, ignoring his fatal wound and sobbing deeply into his chest. He seemed caught off guard, stumbling backwards with the force of Tommy’s hug. But slowly, he wrapped his arms around Tommy as well, one on his back and one behind his head. </p><p> </p><p>Dream had slammed him into the wall. He remembered the pain from his head and spine, ringing when Wilbur touched them. He began to cry ever harder. Even before prison touch done for the sake of it was rare. Tubbo lived all the way in Snowchester, and while there was more casual affection, pats on the shoulder, grabbing each other’s hand, it still wasn’t as close as they used to be. So he sank into the arms holding him easily, clutching Wilbur’s coat tight as if he might leave again.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened, Tommy?” He spoke softly, but his tone demanded answers. Tommy sniffled, lifting his head to look up at Wilbur’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“D-Dre-I was in prison and then- Dream, he-” The words spilled out in jumbled fractures, still in shock. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, Wilbur seemed to get the message. “Dream? He did this?” Tommy felt his hands ball up into fists, making him flinch and pull away a little. Wilbur drew his hands back quickly, looking a little hurt, and Tommy instantly wanted to pull them around him again. But there was still anger on his face, stopping him from approaching Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>“You know I said I was fine being dead?” He said in a low tone. “Change of plans. I’m going to go down there and take his last life myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can try if you want!” called another voice behind them, slurred and mocking. “He’s basically a god, but yeah, you and your scrawny arms can kill him for sure.” Wilbur turned to reveal the horned man sitting a ways behind him, bottle in hand. Schlatt glanced over at Tommy, having the decency to look at least a little somber. “Hey kid, that’s… that’s a yikes, huh? Really fucking sucks you’re here so soon.” He took a gulp straight from the bottle. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy sniffled, frantically wiping away his tears so he could try and speak without blubbering out every word. Wilbur had put a hand out, pausing to see Tommy’s response. He leaned over, letting him place a secure arm over his shoulders and walk him over to where Schlatt was sitting. They sat, Wilbur glowering at Schlatt, Tommy still pressed into his side. </p><p> </p><p>“What a touching reunion we have here.” The ram man’s eyes were hazy, likely from the alcohol. How he even got that bottle in this void was something Tommy didn’t want to ask but desperately wanted to know. “Want a drink?” He held out his hand, which suddenly had a cup in it Tommy hadn’t seen earlier, offering it to Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>“I keep telling you, no.” Wilbur growled. “Keep your brain rot juice away from me. You already stink up the place enough as it is.” Schlatt shrugged, taking another sip from the bottle.</p><p> </p><p>“And you?” He looked at Tommy. “Want some?” The smell of alcohol made his nose wrinkle. Even if he wasn’t underage he didn’t know why anyone would want to drink the stuff, let alone enough to get addicted. He shook his head silently.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur spoke for him. “He’s underage. You’re not giving him alcohol.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, isn’t your drinking age different or something? Thought it was sixteen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eighteen. Now get lost” Schlatt huffed and turned away. “If it wasn’t obvious, we’re stuck here together.” Wilbur informed him. “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was done on purpose as some kind of punishment.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Am I being punished too? </em> He hadn’t been <em> that </em> bad, had he? As if in response to that question, memories began to flood his head. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>The discs were worth more than you ever were!</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>He shuddered, suddenly feeling very cold. Everyone thought of him as a nuisance, didn’t they? They were probably celebrating now that he was gone. Maybe Dream has been right. <em> No, no, that bastard always lies! That can’t be true! Tubbo cares about me! I guess Ranboo kind of does, but I don’t really see him much though. Quackity likes me, and I think Jack was starting to like me a little. Puffy too! And Sam…  </em></p><p> </p><p>He’d screamed for Sam, screamed for someone, anyone to come and help him. <em> I guess he lied when he signed that contract, </em> he thought. <em> The one that said he had to protect me. Guess the prison's safety matters more.  </em></p><p> </p><p>But… while the smell was nasty, and the space undefined, if this was meant to be a punishment, it wasn’t so bad. Wilbur was holding him like he did when he was little, before the beginning of the end. There were a lot of things he wanted to say to his brother, less than pleasant things, but then again, this wasn’t exactly how he thought he’d reunite with him. So he pulled his knees into his chest and huddled closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur glanced over at his balled up form. “Are you okay? Besides the obvious.” He laughed quietly at that, then cut himself off. “Sorry. That’s not funny.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy stared at what should be the ground. “...What was it like, when you came here?” <em> When you died, </em> went unsaid. Wilbur paused, thinking it over.</p><p> </p><p>“There was nothing for a while, then I woke up here, with Schlatt.” he responded simply. “It’s not terribly interesting, being dead. We can’t even tell what’s going on in the living world, making our only entertainment each other. Oh,” Tommy watched as seemingly from out of nothing Wilbur drew a cigarette, already lit. “There’s this too. The void won’t make buildings or places or anything that big, but small stuff like beverages and food seem to work, if you want to give it a shot.” He took a draw from the cigarette, puffing it in Schlatt’s general direction, getting flipped off in response. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy decided to try it himself, holding out his hands and focusing on a mental image. When he opened them, he was holding a glowing gapple. Eagerly shoving it into his mouth, he noted it gave him the same tingliness getting absorption would cause, though he was fairly sure there was no need for that here. What mattered is it felt the same, it felt safe. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you’re really tearing into that thing.” Schlatt commented. “You’d think you died of starvation or something.” He’d only had potatoes and water for an entire week. Even if it was made from the void, he’d take anything over another potato. </p><p> </p><p>The prison. The book. He reluctantly took a break from the gapple. “Schlatt, can I ask you something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, sure. Shoot your shot.”</p><p> </p><p>“That book you gave Dream. Does it really bring people back to life?” </p><p> </p><p>Schlatt nodded. “Yup. He told you about that old thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy froze. Does that mean… <em> Does that mean Dream would bring him back? </em>He wanted to live, obviously, but to be ripped away from his brother before they could even get to talk, ripped from the safety and quiet, back to the prison with Dream? </p><p> </p><p>“He’s going to bring me back, isn’t he?” came out in a horrified whisper. </p><p> </p><p>“What makes you say that?” Wilbur asked. </p><p> </p><p>“He told me - He said that he wouldn’t let me die. That I was too - too much fun.” His skin crawled remembering the way he’d said those words. </p><p> </p><p>He felt Wilbur run his hands through his hair, trying to avoid the wound on the back of his head. “That bastard,” he muttered. “Tommy, he’s lost two lives. We saw them come through here. The next time you see him, send him to me. I’ll make his afterlife hell.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he admitted, leaning into Wilbur’s touch. “I took those lives myself. But… what about you?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean ‘what about me?’”</p><p> </p><p>He reached upwards to cling onto his coat again. “He has the book. He can bring you back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Tommy…” Wilbur’s face fell. “I don’t want to come back. You have to know that, right?” There was silence. Anger bubbled up in Tommy’s chest, building until he suddenly socked Wilbur in the face. The cigarette went flying into the void.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell was that for!” Schlatt cried, making no move to get up or stop him.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not fair!” he wailed. It was childish, but he didn’t care. “You just left me, and now I have to leave you again? Just like that?” He pulled him in by the lapels. “Do you know what’s happened down there? What Techno and Phil did to L’manburg? What Dream did to <em> me </em>? And I don’t just mean him killing me, either. He tormented me, and you weren’t even there!”</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur just stared blankly, in shock from the punch. “Say something, asshole!” Tommy raised a fist again, when he saw tears, real, genuine tears, starting to form in his brother’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy,” he hoarsely whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.” Tommy stared as Wilbur, who had never wanted to show emotion in front of him, even a pillar of strength, began to silently weep. “This doesn’t even feel real. You never seemed like you could die, but well, here you are. The one thing I never wanted to see.” Tommy sniffled a little. </p><p> </p><p>“Damn it, you’re gonna make me cry again too.” Tommy went in to hug him again, this time reciprocated by both of them as they clung desperately. “I missed you so much Wilbur. The real you. And if I’m going back, you’re coming too.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Fine.” He looked at Tommy through tears. “If that’s what you want from me, I’ll be there. But you’ll have to get the book from Dream first.”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded, determined. “I’ll kill him on sight, you’ll beat him up and then I’ll bring you back.” The look on Wilbur’s face told him he didn’t entirely believe that, but it didn’t matter. He’ll make it come true.</p><p> </p><p>Off to the side, Schlatt shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I kinda liked it better when you were just grumpy all the time, not gonna lie.” Wilbur flipped him off. </p><p> </p><p>So Tommy waited with baited breath for the moment he’d be pulled away, forced to endure the living world’s harsh light. But until then, he clung to his brother, savoring these precious moments of comfort.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you're wondering why no explanation is given for why Schlatt had the book, it's because I literally have no theories besides "IDK he's a rich guy who doesn't want to die I guess? But he wants to stay dead so that doesn't add up?" Anyway, in the good ending to this fic, Tommy kills Dream on sight, Wilbur gets to have a go at him, then he comes back and they get therapy. Bad end is probably whatever canon will end up doing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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